


We Know How It Ends

by oncetherelivedaboy



Series: Soulmate Thing [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, That's right, ends sad, i'm still trash, starts out kind of fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncetherelivedaboy/pseuds/oncetherelivedaboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burr turned up his nose at the trio, but Alexander seemed delighted and joined them. Within minutes stating “Laurens, I like you a lot.” And He certainly hadn’t blushed, that was just the alcohol, but Alex had shaken his hand, and his eyes went wide, they felt it. For one fraction of a second, his heart stopped, and he saw it on Alexander’s own face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Know How It Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of a previous one shot I wrote.

They met before the war. It was a crowded bar and everyone was loud, but they must have been the loudest. Alexander had caught his eye the minute he and Burr walked into the bar, and he had accordingly made a fool of himself, trying to show off, draw his attention towards him, and it had worked. Burr turned up his nose at the trio, but Alexander seemed delighted and joined them. Within minutes stating “Laurens, I like you a lot.” And He certainly hadn’t blushed, that was just the alcohol, but Alex had shaken his hand, and his eyes went wide, they felt it. 

For one fraction of a second, his heart stopped, and he saw it on Alexander’s own face, but neither said anything, it was still taboo for men to be together, even with a link, even as soulmates. The Puritans had made certain of that, claimed the bond between men was a lie, a falsehood, or the devil trying to corrupt them. It was something they could discuss later, behind closed doors and away from eavesdroppers. 

Eventually it had quieted down, Lafayette was barely upright and Hercules wished them a farewell before the two stumbled out of the bar, John leading Alex up to the room he was staying in. They sat in silence for a long time, far from sober, but still coherent enough. Alex pinched his arm, and sure enough John flinched. 

“So, I guess…”John said.

“Yeah.” It was barely a breath.

“We can’t tell anyone.” Alex nodded and the silence returned. They sat on the floor until John slowly nodded off, exhaustion and drunkenness taking over. Both half hoping it was a dream.

It wasn’t, obviously. It wasn’t as if they didn’t like each other, didn’t think it was a mistake, it was obvious that they were destined, yet, it would have been easier if they hadn’t been.

They parted ways after a few months, but in that time became the best of friends, tried to pretend they didn’t feel the weight of their own arm as it was wrapped around the other. John was the one who wanted space, hoped that with space the connection might sever, even though they both knew that was impossible. When the war finally broke out properly, they both ended up as Aides de Camp for Washington, and Alex had seemed equally surprised as Washington introduced them. The last few months he’d felt every exhausted late night, every stubbed toe and paper cut of the man in front of him, who was well aware of his tendency to get into fights from the countless blows he had taken the last months. 

He found him in his tent that night, writing by candlelight, and he’d glanced up at him before turning back to the pages in front of him, as John sat on a trunk next to the desk.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t spare my full attention at the moment.” Alex said, not looking back up from the papers laid out in front of him. 

“I understand.” He sighed heavily. “Washington wanted me to get to know you.” 

“You already know me, John. Get some rest, we have early training in the morning.” 

“Are we going to talk about, you know?” 

“You never seemed keen on it in the past, so no, I do not believe we are.” There was a cracking sound and he cursed. John spared a glance at the desk, seeing the splintered quill and subsequent splotch of ink in the middle of the page. He grumbled as he found a new quill, and plunged it into the ink, seeming to think about rewriting the letter entirely due to the ink splotch, but instead choosing to ignore it and continue. 

“Are you angry with me?” John finally asked. 

“Just, go back to your tent.”

“Alexander, I..”

“Please just go, I have work to do.” He stands, hands shaking slightly before starting out of the tent.

“I’m sorry I left.”

“You didn’t even bother with a letter.” 

“And I’m trying to apologize!”

“I don’t care, just get out.” He turns back around, dropping onto the trunk again, stretching his legs out. 

“No, I want to know why you’re angry with me.” 

“You fucking left, you didn’t tell me where you were going, never wrote me.”

“I didn’t think you cared.”

“Of course I fucking cared! We’re soul…” John’s hand was over his mouth in an instant, keeping him from completing the word, and moved it away slowly when Alex seemed to have realized his words, he was quick to speak and it often got him into situation he’d rather avoid. John leans forward slightly to kiss him, soft and slow, and when they catch their breath, their foreheads stay pressed together. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write you, it was just a lot to handle.”

“What are we gonna do?” He shrugs. 

“I don’t know.”

* * *

 

It had been years since then, the war was coming to a close. There had been a crucial battle win, he could feel it from Alex, the excitement boiling over into himself, something had happened, but the other men had yet to confirm or deny anything, no information from Washington had been sent their way yet. It was late August of ‘82, summer mostly gone but the sun still warm in the late afternoon, the nights just a bit chilly. They were traveling through the night, trying to reach a fort early, they were all exhausted, half asleep as they trudged on. 

Shots rang out, pain shooting through his abdomen as he fell from the horse, the men around him quickly moving into position themselves, but he couldn’t think about that as the blood had already begun to pool beneath him, he tried putting pressure on it, but to little avail. He had no idea how long he stayed like that, clawing at the grass and trying to sit up, as the bullets continued to fly around them. Everything was fading, and he couldn't breathe, vision blurring as he did his best to stay awake, his words caught in his throat, and he felt it. The wave of fear that wasn’t his, but had stemmed from his own injury, Alexander. He tried to block out his own fear, tried to think of happy times, tried to project them onto Alex before he died, there was no hope for him, he knew he was already dead, there was no use. His vision faded, his fingers clenched and unclenched, and his eyes slipped shut. Somewhere, miles upon miles away, Alexander screamed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me or make requests at oncetherelivedaboy.tumblr.com


End file.
